


Shuttlecock

by SelinOriginal



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Butch Louis, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Girl Direction, Harry has a massive crush, Smut, Spanking, badminton au, lots of nipple play? idk where that came from but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 05:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelinOriginal/pseuds/SelinOriginal
Summary: Harry wondered if it wasn’t some elaborate Bend it Like Beckham fantasy, the result of having a Mia Hamm poster on the wall above her bed for an embarrassingly long time in middle school. The reality was, Harry Styles was deeply in love with girls’ footie captain Louis Tomlinson and had been for years. And she had it bad.//A Girl Direction Badminton au complete with butch!Louis, supportive sister!Gemma, and Harry Styles as the self-appointed president of Louis' fan club.





	Shuttlecock

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO i was going to post this months and months ago but I got v sidetracked/life stuff happened. So I made some edits and here we are!
> 
> This is v unbetaed and un-britpicked so apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> Also I don't own Harry, Louis, Larry, etc. As always, if I did I would be chilling on a yacht rn rolling in the big bucks, but alas.

Harry wondered if it wasn’t some elaborate Bend it Like Beckham fantasy, the result of having a Mia Hamm poster on the wall above her bed for an embarrassingly long time in middle school. The reality was, Harry Styles was deeply in love with girls’ footie captain Louis Tomlinson and had been for years. And she had it bad.

This school year, by some cruel twist of fate, God or Sappho or Beyoncé or whoever had placed them in the same PE class. At this moment their class was in the middle of an unusually extended badminton unit that was proving hellish as far as Harry’s crush was concerned.

First off, Louis was loud in class. She was constantly talking or doing ridiculous impressions of the teachers. Despite being one of the first girls at school to come out as gay—even getting a triangle tattooed on her ankle that Harry had spent many class periods distractedly laser-focused on—Louis was still popular and well liked. She never seemed to have a hard time finding friends and was always joking with the other sporty girls or ditching class to smoke cigs under the bleachers with Zayn, a quiet/devastatingly beautiful artist girl who Harry hoped she wasn’t dating. Sometimes gross, douchey straight boys would call Louis bossy or whatever, but she always flipped them off and didn’t seem to care what they thought anyway. Harry admired that so much. She wished she could be more like Louis, confident and unashamed. The kind of girl who could cut her hair short and stick up for her little sisters when people were rude to them. Harry’s heart melted for her.

Louis’ loudness and outgoing personality came out in full force when she was allowed to be in “jock mode”. She excelled at pretty much any sport she tried, badminton included, and as footie team captain she absolutely insisted on leading a classwide cheer at the end of each PE class. This cheer was probably the single greatest bane of Harry’s existence. After the coach blew her whistle signaling the end of class, all the girls--led by Louis--gathered together in a circle, put their hands together, and Louis counted down from 3 before yelling “SHUTTLECOCK!” at the top of her lungs in a way that made everyone titter and giggle. 

When Louis had first done this, Harry felt extremely targeted and was certain that it was an actual plot from God to test her. She knew she was blushing big time, couldn’t even bear to look at Louis even when she was the center of attention because it was like staring into the sun. Still, albeit in her peripheral vision, Harry had noticed Louis staring pointedly in her direction as she said it that first time. Louis had definitely seen that Harry hadn’t said “shuttlecock”, hadn’t said anything at all...She was too fluttery and shy and embarrassed to even think about that word—cock(!!)—in front of Louis.

Many class periods passed by with Harry still completely unable to say it. Every time, Louis would look at her with an unreadable expression and Harry would slink off to the locker rooms to change.

After showers (another of Harry’s many gay girl social anxiety triggers) on a particularly intense PE day, Louis found Harry in the locker room putting her damp curls up in a bun at the mirror.

“Hey Harold.” Louis slid easily into the space beside Harry, making her reflexively jump a little.

“Oh! Hey, Lou. How’s it going?” Harry squeaked, watching Louis in the mirror and making a concentrated effort to look up from the grey sports bra that was a little wet from the shower still, displaying how hard and pointy the buds of Louis’ nipples were. 

Sometimes in the post-class haze of the locker room, Harry thought about being Louis’ sports bra, rubbing up against her pert, wet nipples over and over and making them hard. Soaking up Louis’ sweat, being as close as she could get to the small swells of her chest...Maybe even chafing up against her nipples a little, making her hurt...now Harry wasn’t even sure herself who she wanted to be in the fantasy. She kind of wanted Louis to hurt her. Maybe Louis would pinch her nipples, slap her ass for a job well done and punish her for going around naked in the girls locker room, fuck her hard up against a wall in the showers...If Harry was good enough maybe Louis would let her wear her football jersey, #28, while she rode her fingers or sat on her face....God. Harry was throbbing with want. 

But it wasn’t just sexual. Harry wanted romantic stuff with Louis too, cheering her on at footie games, wearing the aforementioned jersey around school so everyone knew who she belonged to, eventual marriage and babies...Harry couldn’t even count the amount of times she’d spent low-key serial killer staring at the back of Louis’ beautiful head in class dreaming about eventually becoming Mrs. Harry Tomlinson. Harry Styles-Tomlinson? Harry Tomlinson-Styles? She wasn’t sure.

Louis coughed and Harry snapped back to reality.

“Sorry, what’d you say, Lou? Got distracted or something, I dunno.” Harry blushed even more as she looked down at her feet. She was coming across as so weird and hysterical and she knew it. How long had she spent obviously staring at Louis’ tits in the mirror? She was so, so worried about seeming creepy by accident, especially to other girls in the locker room.

“No problem, mate. I just asked if you’re afraid of cock or something,” Louis repeated easily, as if that’s a completely normal question to ask a classmate.

“Wait, WHAT?” Harry’s head snapped up in shock to face Louis directly, bun dribbling water down her back.

“You heard me, Curly.” Louis took out a stick of chapstick from the pocket of her trackies. The vanilla kind, Harry noted. “I’ve seen you at the end of class. Why don’t you ever cheer with us? Are. You. Afraid. Of. Cock?” She continued, smoothing the chapstick on her lips in the mirror and flicking her short, wet hair to the side. 

Harry felt extremely exposed, naked despite having put her tits away in a t-shirt ten minutes ago. She blinked about a hundred times before managing to stutter out, “Um, I? No? I mean, yeah, I’m gay, but, uh, everyone’s a little bit gay, right? I dunno.” She felt her cheeks getting redder and redder with each word, the flush spreading to her neck. There was no getting out of this one.

Louis laughed—a beautiful, high lilt—and she shoved Harry’s shoulder softly. “Only kidding, Harold. Obviously you’re gay.” She said this last part softly with a hand still lingering on Harry’s shoulder, looking directly into her eyes—the whole interaction felt conspiratorial now, as if they were the only two people in the steam-filled room. This wasn’t helping Harry’s squirminess, her embarrassment, the heat and wetness that pooled in her panties like clockwork whenever Louis addressed her. The place on her shoulder where Louis touched was still burning. Harry wished it would bruise.

“Anyways,” Louis continued briskly, “I actually came over here to see if you wanted to do some serving practice with me later tonight or something. Those long Bambi legs of yours might help you to be the best at serving in class, but some of us aren’t so vertically blessed. I need some help shuttlecock-ing, you might say.”

Harry honestly felt as if she’d come down with a case of serious whiplash, but she was so intent on coming across as chill and normal that she just nodded, beaming with Louis’ praise. Louis was right—Harry actually did have lots of serving experience. She’d been her older sister Gemma’s designated family reunion badminton partner for many summers in a row.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Harry miraculously replied in what she hoped was a detached, semi-nonchalant tone. She rested her hand casually on the metal shelf beneath the mirror as she addressed Louis. “I’m pretty free after school. Usually I just, like, watch crap wedding TV shows with my mum or work in the bakery. Or, uh, chill with Niall or something,” she added quickly, lest she accidentally imply that she was friendless or something.

“Alright, it’s settled. Can I pick you up at your place, 6 or so?” Harry nodded, elated.

“Cool. See you then, Haz.” Louis smiled and squeezed Harry’s arm, Adidas sneakers squeaking slightly on the cool tile as she walked away.

Harry felt so wound up—she wasn’t sure, but maybe this was a date! This could be her big chance to actually be gay in practice rather than in theory. And to be gay with Louis, the fittest, sweetest, smartest, and most hilarious butch in the whole school--in the whole world. Louis who skateboarded to school every day and who had once melted Harry’s heart by kissing each of her little sisters’ foreheads individually after she scored the winning goal at the football championship.

Harry felt as if she’d won a championship herself. She took another glance at her appearance in the mirror and allowed herself one (1) giant, stupid, triumphant grin before hiding that secret crush part of herself away so she could safely go to her next class without wearing her heart on her sleeve (well, face). She immediately grabbed her phone to text the news to the “STYLES LADIES” Groupchat (which was really just Harry, her mum, and Gemma).

'Guys I think Ive got a badminton date with Louis Tomlinson tonight????' She typed, trying to stop her hands from shaking.

'OMG!' Harry’s mum texted back immediately. 'B safe. Louis is well fit! ;)' Harry’s mum Anne knew Louis from Gemma’s birthday parties in primary school as they were in the same year. Harry always used to shyly hide in her room whenever Louis would come around the house, and she only realized why once she’d reached secondary (though Harry secretly thought that Anne and Gemma knew all along).

Gemma thumbs-down reacted to Anne’s message and heart reacted to Harry’s. 'Yayyy, so excited for you H! But if you want to borrow my new earrings for tn the answer is still no'

Harry rolled her eyes. Gemma texted again. 'Also wtf is a ‘badminton date’?'

\---

That evening Harry rifled through her closet, looking for an outfit that read as “cute, athletic, and available”, a combination that was proving to be difficult to curate. Gemma was sprawled on Harry’s bed half-reading a book about self love and half-playing Sims on her laptop.

“What about...this one?” Harry emerged from the closet with her old Mia Hamm jersey.

Gemma looked up from her book. Her face immediately turned horrified. “Harry! Oh my god. No. If you show up in a football-themed outfit it’s like wearing a ‘President of the Louis Tomlinson Fanclub’ sign on your forehead.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t really see why it’s bad to seem like the president of her fanclub...I kind of am the president of her fanclub.”

Gemma shut her book and sighed.

“Ok, as both your older sister and someone who has known Louis for years I would say that you are vastly overthinking this entire thing. Come sit over here for a sec.”

Harry flopped on the bed dramatically next to Gemma, pretending to faint.

Gemma was not amused. “H, you’ve just got to be yourself and have fun. You’re the coolest, kindest, most charming girl in your year. Didn’t you literally just bake Mrs. Jansen a cake for her 85th birthday and hand-deliver flowers with it?”

Harry nodded. Gemma had a point, she was a really sweet person.

“See? You’re a great baker! You’re really thoughtful and great at crafts and you’re an excellent friend. I don’t see what you’ve got to be worried about--you’re extremely lovable. What exactly did Louis say about this date? Like, what are the activities?”

Harry paused to think, staring distractedly at Gemma’s Sims game for a second.

“Well...She mostly said that she needs help practicing her badminton serves for PE.”

Gemma scrunched her face. “Ok. And?”

Harry looked back at her sister, confused by the question. “And...I guess that’s it. That’s all she said. She needs help practicing serves because, like, I’m really good at them in class. And I’m tall.”

Gemma raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. Harry knew this was a sure sign that she was trying to hold back from saying something.

“Wait, what is it, Gems?”

Gemma hesitated. “Harry, I know you’re very excited to hang out with Louis tonight. But, like...are you even sure that this is actually a date? Did she ever actually specify?”

“Erm…” Harry tried hard to think back to the conversation in the locker room. “I mean, she didn’t say, like, specifically...” Gemma rubbed her temple.

“But, it is a date! For sure!” Harry continued frantically. “She touched my shoulder and stuff.”

“I don’t know, Harry…” Gemma just didn’t seem to understand the nuances of gay culture; the difference between eye contact and Gay Eye Contact. To her Louis was just some athletic girl in her classes; they ran in different circles. Still, she’d been Harry’s number one crush confidante since she was born so she couldn’t help but be supportive.

“I’d say play it cool”, Gemma continued. “Honestly, Louis obviously knows you’re in love with her so you don’t have to worry about her being weirded out by your crush.” Harry blushed.

“Are you sure she knows?” She squeaked out.

Gemma nodded. “Uh, yeah. Pretty much everyone knows. Ok, but back to my advice: Just don’t assume anything and have a good time. And don’t wear a football jersey just because she likes football. Just be you! That’s enough.” Gemma pointed decisively to the book she was reading; there was a woman on the cover doing a thumbs up in the mirror. Harry did a halfhearted thumbs up back.

\---

Louis showed up to the Styles household at 6 pm sharp, looking extremely hot in a full Adidas fit. She had her hands in the pockets of her trackies when Harry answered the door--Harry thought that she almost looked...nervous.

“Hey, H.” Louis said, and there it was, that trademark thousand-watt Louis Tomlinson smile that left Harry feeling soft.

“Hi!” Harry said, unable to contain her joy at Louis’ presence. “I’m so glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure, like, what to wear or anything.”

Louis looked her up and down with an eyebrow raised. “You trying to impress me, Styles?” she teased.

Harry blushed and shrugged. This was definitely flirting. “Might be,” she replied coyly.

“Alright, well let’s see how impressive you are on the badminton court. I thought we’d go down to the school tennis courts and practice a bit tonight.” Louis raised a set of keys. “Being the footie captain gives you certain privileges at school...VIP access to the tennis courts behind the gym.”

“Lucky me,” Harry said. “Bye Gems, bye Mum!” She called back to the house as Louis walked Harry to her car, a beat-up looking Ford Galaxy.

“Your chariot, madame,” Louis said in a ridiculously posh voice as she opened the passenger side door.

“Thank you,” Harry said genuinely. She surveyed the car’s interior. In the backseat she could see lots of different football gear and a lot more car seats, toys, and dance equipment than she had anticipated.

“It’s um, me sisters’ stuff as well. We’ve only got the one car,” Louis said apologetically as she climbed into the front seat.

“I think it’s sweet that you, like, take care of your sisters so much. I like it.” Harry said, possibly over-passionately.

Louis laughed, and Harry frowned.

“I’m serious! I think you’re a sweet person. And funny.”

Now it was Louis’ turn to blush.

“Thank you Harold. That means a lot coming from you, an actual angel.” Harry laughed. “Pretty sure when you were born they meant to sprinkle a dash of sweetest-girl-ever powder but they spilled it all in by accident. And that’s why you are the way you are!” Louis proclaimed loudly.

Harry smiled and looked out the window. “Something like that.”

\---

As fun as their conversation was in the car, on the court things were different entirely. The game was tense, to say the least. Louis wasn’t kidding when she’d said that she needed help on her serves. She was extremely good at volleying, but Harry had a major advantage when it came to landing points with serves that Louis had no chance of hitting back over the net.

“Fucking hell, Styles!!! Were you born a badminton prodigy?” Louis called, panting, from her side of the court as once again Harry had launched a birdie that sailed over the net (and over Louis).

“Lucky shot,” Harry said, flashing a winning smile. She pulled down her red short shorts slightly as they were riding up on her ass big time--a strategic outfit choice.

“Those shorts won’t help you once I get into the rhythm of the game--you can’t distract me from winning!” Louis said accusingly, covering her eyes theatrically.

“I have no idea what you mean, Lou,” Harry said as she pulled her sweatshirt over her head to reveal her sports bra.

“Fuck,” Louis said hoarsely under her breath. “Ok, my serve now.” Instead of Harry hitting the birdie lightly over the net, Louis marched over to Harry’s side of the court and grabbed it from the ground in front of her. Harry was suddenly extremely distracted herself as Louis bent over, displaying her fantastic ass--Harry’s biggest weakness. She bit her lip to keep from moaning openly.

Louis slowly stood back up, flicking her hair to one side and shooting Harry an intense look. 

“You’re on this time, Styles.” Louis smacked the racket against her open palm as Harry stared back at her. She almost couldn’t take it. Her panties had been soaked since Louis had opened the car door for her.

Harry took a deep breath and grabbed Louis’ arm, stopping her from heading back to her side of the court. “Lou, I’m gonna be really honest with you...sometimes the way you hold the racquet in badminton can be very...distracting.”

Louis took a step closer. “What? What do you mean?”

Harry couldn’t look at her. This was too much like a confession but she was powerless to stop. “Like, when you’ve scored a point or something or are about to serve or whatever, and you smack the racquet in your palm? I literally can’t concentrate. It just looks so much like...spanking or whatever!” Louis’ cool demeanor fell for a second. She was visibly shocked and her mouth fell open.

Harry took this as a rejection. “Uh, I’m so sorry I even said anything. Just, um, please forget it. Was a joke.” Harry knew she was blushing, that she was going further in teasing Louis than girls usually did with one another. She hoped that maybe she could carry this off as a poorly executed attempt at humor if it went badly, and not a hysterical confession. 

Louis walked closer to her, almost as if Harry had given her permission, pushed a boundary. “Like...spanking?” She near-whispered, making direct eye contact. “Is that what you think it looks like, Harry?”

Harry gulped and looked away. “Please, Lou, don’t joke, I can’t take it. It’s already hard enough.”

“What is?” Louis pressed, touching Harry’s arm softly. “Please use your words, H. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Harry looked back up at Louis, pleading. “Lou, I can’t even look at you at the end of class when we all do the shuttlecock cheer--because...I can’t even hear you say cock, that’s how bad it is, God. And when I accidentally hit the birdie way out of bounds on your side I try so hard to look away, not stare at your arse in your trackies, but god, Lou...I’m so so sorry if I’m creeping you out, I’ll never do it again if you don’t want me to.” She couldn’t stop confessing, it was a flood of everything she’d repressed.

Louis laughed. “Harry. You walk around with your tits out in the locker room every day and you think I’m not worried about being creepy too? I change in the fucking bathroom stall because I don’t want you to know—Harry, you have no idea what you do to me. Seeing you all flushed after warm ups, the way your curls get so dark after a shower...Christ, Harry. I want you.”

Harry nodded weakly, nearly frozen in place with shock, and Louis took it as the permission that it was. Louis surged forward and captured Harry’s lips in a passionate kiss, hands tangling in her curls. Harry felt as if she was dreaming as Louis’ tongue slipped into her mouth, and she kissed her back just as hard.

Things immediately turned heated as Louis backed them both up against the chain link fence behind Harry. She ran her fingers gently and expertly up and down Harry’s sides, making her shiver as she kissed her. Harry felt blissful and charged. She wanted to stay right here, making out with Louis Tomlinson until the day she died.

Harry bravely moved her hand exploringly down from Louis’ neck to her back, and lower. She was at the dip of Louis’ waist, right at the waistband of her trackies.

“Is this ok?” Harry whispered breathily in Louis’ ear as Louis kissed her neck.

“Fuck, baby. ‘Course it is.” Louis stopped kissing her for a second to look at Harry, pinned to the fence under her.

Before Louis could kiss her again, Harry hesitated.

“Um, Lou…?” She began. Louis looked panicked.

“What is it?” She asked. “Are you ok? Should we stop?”

Harry shook her head vehemently.

“No! No, it’s not that. Not at all. I just, like...I wondered if you Like Me like me or if this is just, like, a random hookup for you. Or something.” Harry blushed at her lack of confidence, but she needed the clarity.

Louis put her hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Harry. I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”

Harry furrowed her brow, shocked. “What???”

“Literally, mate, the footie team had to instate a ‘no Harry talk’ rule at practice because I can’t seem to shut the fuck up about how much I like you.”

Harry giggled.  
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure you were into me…” Louis said, her voice getting a little quieter and less sure.

This shocked Harry more than anything else. “Wait, what?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah. Zayn heard you talking to Niall about how hot Frankie Sanford is and, like, how she’s your celebrity crush. I was so jealous of Frankie Sandford for such a long time after I heard you liked her because she’s, like, the femme version of me. People always say that...I thought that maybe you wouldn’t like me because I’m butch.” Louis waved her wrist around lazily.

Harry shook her head firmly. “God, no, Louis I love that you’re butch. Love how you dress and your hair...seeing you in your trackies and sports bra, all sweaty...fuck.” Once Harry started confessing, she couldn’t stop. If this was her big opportunity to tell Louis how she felt, she was going to make it count. She took a deep breath, trying to convey exactly how deeply she felt about Louis. “Louis, I walk around naked in the girls locker room because I want you to see me, want you to, like, punish me.”

“Punish you?!” Louis’ pupils were extremely dark and dilated as she stared back at Harry.

“Yes,” Harry confirmed. “Everything is for you. It’s only for you. Please, Louis.” Harry was getting squirmy. She was so turned on and embarrassed (turned on because she was embarrassed) that she knew she had soaked through her underwear.

“Please what?” Louis said.

Harry said nothing, but she brought Louis’ hand between her thighs so that she could feel the way her body reacted. If this fantasy was going to come true then she was going to do it right.

“Please fuck me, Louis,” She whispered. Harry didn’t have to ask twice. Louis kissed her harder, more intensely, with a purpose this time.

“God, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” Louis whispered hotly in Harry’s ear, continuing to mouth along her neck. Louis’ hands roamed Harry’s body reverently; every touch felt like an electric current straight to Harry’s clit. She was a mess already, dripping in her panties. Louis flicked Harry’s nipple through her cotton sports bra and Harry cried out.

“Sensitive, are you?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded. Louis bit at her neck and pinched her nipple hard and Harry almost came right then, it felt so good.

“Louis, touch me,” she cried, and Louis did, moving her hands down so she could circle Harry’s clit through her shorts.  
“These shorts...Christ, Harry, I could proper wreck you.” Louis growled in her ear. She slipped her hand underneath the shorts and felt the wetness that was pooled there. Harry could feel herself throbbing, contracting and clenching around nothing.

“So wet for me, aren’t you, love?” Louis asked. Harry nodded, crossing her hands above her head as Louis continued to touch her, feeling the cold metal of the chain link fence contrast with the hot wetness of her body.

“Please touch me inside, Lou. I’ll come fast. I’ll be good.” 

Louis started out fucking her slow and then added more fingers as Harry shook and twitched at the feeling.

“I don’t know that you will be good, Harry...seem like a bad girl to me, all spread out for me, letting me fuck you in the tennis courts behind the school after hours...anyone could walk by and see…” Harry nodded as Louis spoke, wanting so badly for someone to walk by and see Louis fucking her fingers into Harry’s pussy.

“Maybe I ought to bend you over the net and spank you for being such a bad girl…” Louis continued, and that was all it took. Harry gasped as her body spasmed with pleasure, legs shaking against the fence. Harry clenched around Louis’ fingers which continued to fuck expertly into and out of her, thumb ghosting her clit which made her shake with overwhelm.

Harry gasped and panted, looking up at Louis who smiled at her, out of breath herself as she took her glistening fingers out of Harry’s shorts. “Oh my God, Lou. Fuck. I want to eat you out so bad, get on my knees for you…”

Louis took her hand. “Fuck baby, I want that too. But can we go back to the car for that? We’re not all big-time exhibitionists like you,” she teased, jostling Harry’s shoulder. Harry blushed and nodded.

“Also,” Louis continued. “I actually, like, brought you flowers because I know that you like those? But I kept them in the boot of my car because I was embarrassed and that. Wasn’t sure if it was a date.”

Harry surprised her by leaping off of the fence and enveloping Louis into a hug. “Oh, Lou...thank you so much. I’m so happy. Yes, let’s continue in the car. I’d love some flowers.”

The following week, Louis and Harry walked triumphantly into the gymnasium for PE hand-in-hand. It turned out that they were perfectly matched partners in badminton (and out of it, too).


End file.
